Chapter 5 Unlikely Encounters

Ariana stepped out of the sleek black car, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she lifted her chin. The grand entrance of the Kensington Grand Hotel loomed before her, its golden lights casting an ethereal glow against the night sky. Tonight was the event of the season-the Blackwood Foundation Charity Gala. It was an exclusive affair, where the elite gathered under the pretense of generosity while quietly competing over wealth and status.

She adjusted the diamond bracelet around her wrist, feeling the weight of the woman she had to become tonight. Elegant. Untouchable. Unshaken.

The betrayal still burned beneath her skin, but tonight wasn't about Liam or Sienna. Tonight, she wasn't a woman scorned.

Tonight, she was Ariana Cole.

She stepped forward, the sound of her heels clicking against the marble steps echoing in the night. As she walked inside, chandeliers hung like constellations across the vast ballroom, their golden glow illuminating a sea of well-dressed guests, laughter, and the soft clinking of champagne glasses.

Ariana exhaled slowly, readying herself for the game ahead.

Then-she felt it.

A presence.

A shift in the air so potent it made the tiny hairs on her arms rise.

She turned instinctively.

And that's when she saw him.

Damian Blackwood.

He stood near the bar, his presence so commanding that even in a room full of millionaires and socialites, he was the only one that mattered.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dangerous.

His tuxedo was tailored to perfection, but it wasn't the expensive fabric or the crispness of his white dress shirt that made him magnetic. It was him. The raw, masculine energy that radiated from him, the quiet authority in the way he stood, the way his sharp gray eyes flicked over the crowd like he was hunting for something-or someone.

Then, as if he had felt her staring, his gaze locked onto hers.

Ariana's breath hitched.

The moment their eyes met, a slow current of heat curled low in her stomach. Electricity. Sharp and undeniable. It crackled between them, invisible yet so tangible it made the air thick.

Damian's expression remained unreadable, but something in his eyes darkened, intensified.

And then, he moved.

Deliberate. Unhurried. Like a man who knew he owned the space he walked in.

Ariana should have looked away. But she didn't.

She held his gaze as he crossed the ballroom, the sea of people parting for him like he was something more than just a man.

By the time he reached her, the world had shrunk to just the two of them.

"Ariana Cole," he said, his voice smooth as whiskey, rich with something she couldn't quite place. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever get the pleasure of meeting you."

Ariana arched a perfectly sculpted brow, masking the way his voice sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "Should I be flattered or concerned that you know my name?"

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, the ghost of a smirk. "Let's just say... I make it a point to know who the most interesting people in the room are."

Ariana tilted her head, pretending to consider him. "And you think I'm interesting?"

Damian's gaze swept over her slowly, deliberately, as if he were committing her to memory.

"Undeniably."

Ariana's breath faltered for half a second before she recovered. She was used to being looked at, admired even-but not like this.

Not like a man was seeing past her surface, past the perfect dress and the poised expression. Not like he was peeling her open layer by layer with just a single glance.

She refused to let him rattle her.

"Well, Mr. Blackwood, I suppose that makes two of us," she said, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile.

Damian chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "You flatter me, Miss Cole."

The way he said her name sent an unfamiliar warmth skittering through her veins. She wasn't sure if it was intrigue or something far more dangerous.

Ariana took a slow sip of her champagne, keeping her gaze locked with his. "Tell me, Damian, do you always make a habit of unsettling women within minutes of meeting them?"

His lips twitched. "Only when they're worth unsettling."

Ariana's pulse skipped.

This was a game. A dance of words, control, and power. And God help her, she was enjoying it.

"Careful," she murmured, tilting her chin up slightly. "I don't scare easily."

Damian leaned in, just enough for her to catch the faintest trace of his cologne-woodsmoke and something darkly sensual.

"I don't want you scared, Ariana," he said, his voice softer now, dangerously intimate. "I want you intrigued."

Ariana exhaled slowly, her body betraying her with the way it reacted to the heat in his words.

But she wasn't some inexperienced girl easily swayed by charm and power.

She was Ariana Cole. And she had her own games to play.

"Well, Mr. Blackwood," she said smoothly, swirling the champagne in her glass. "I suppose you'll have to try harder, then."

For the first time, a full smile curved his lips. Slow. Amused. Wicked.

"Oh, I intend to."

Ariana's stomach tightened, but before she could say anything, a voice interrupted them.

"Liam Carter and Sienna Hayes have arrived!"

The mention of their names hit Ariana like ice water, extinguishing the warmth that had started to spread through her.

Damian must have noticed the way her expression changed because his eyes sharpened.

"Something tells me that wasn't good news for you," he observed.

Ariana inhaled deeply, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass.

"It's nothing I can't handle," she murmured, forcing the calm facade back into place.

Damian watched her, his gaze assessing, as if deciding whether or not to push further.

Then, he extended a hand. "Would you care to dance, Ariana?"

She blinked at him, surprised by the offer. "You don't seem like the type of man who enjoys ballroom dancing."

His smirk deepened. "I don't. But I do enjoy keeping people on their toes."

Ariana hesitated. She should refuse. She should walk away, keep her distance.

But something about Damian dared her to step closer.

And so she did.

She placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.

As he pulled her into his arms, his grip firm and unwavering, Ariana realized something.

She had come here tonight to start her war.

But maybe, just maybe, she had found her strongest ally.